


Vigilance

by mrs_d



Series: Dead Ends [5]
Category: due South
Genre: Banter, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 12:13:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11691384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_d/pseuds/mrs_d
Summary: “I just feel paranoid, okay? Like I can’t break cover. And, and—” Ray knew he was rambling, but he couldn’t stop. “It’s weird, okay, Frase? Like... everybody’s watching me, and I’m watching everybody, wondering what they’re up to. Cop’s instinct, maybe. That is my thing, right?” [originally written 2015]





	Vigilance

**Author's Note:**

> Another old draft with a new ending.

Ray surveyed the sunny street behind his shades. It was clean (too clean) but packed with people, so it’d probably be messy by nightfall. That thought comforted him somehow.

Fraser walked to his right, wearing jeans and a red shirt, smelling like sunscreen, for once not wearing his hat. Ray liked him in red, always had, but today he felt like he was walking beside a giant target.

“We should have rented a car,” he declared, trying not to sound too twitchy.

Fraser sounded normal (of course). “Well, you may be right, Ray, but the traffic here is notoriously—”

“Traffic, I can handle. But this?” Ray raised his voice as a group of people with cameras around their necks forced him away from Fraser’s side. “This, I don’t handle so good.”

“The crowds? The noise?” Fraser called back.

Ray weaved around the last of the tourists, which was like doing a foxtrot with a big slow guy, and caught up to where Fraser was waiting for him. They fell into step alongside each other, which always felt ten times better than the best dance.

“Exactly,” Ray agreed. “We wouldn’t have to yell to hear each other in a car.”

“To be fair, though, sometimes you do yell at me in a car,” Fraser pointed out. “For instance, last month, when I suggested leaping out in pursuit of—”

“That was different,” Ray said, but he was grinning. Bantering — or maybe this was arguing — with Fraser was easy, familiar, and Ray was grateful to him for starting it.

“Of course it was,” Fraser said indulgently.

“It was,” Ray insisted. “That time I _chose_ to— Jesus!” He jumped quickly aside as one, two, _three_ laughing teenagers on bikes zipped between them, coloured flags painted on their cheeks.

“Are you all right?” Fraser asked from the other side.

“Yeah,” Ray answered him as they moved back together. “Wish I had my ticket book, though,” he grumbled.

“You don’t have a ticket book, Ray,” Fraser said patiently. “Nor jurisdiction, for that matter.”

“Yeah, well, those kids shouldn’t be riding on the sidewalk. If I had a ticket book, I could at least scare them with it.”

“True enough,” Fraser conceded. He tilted a grin in Ray’s direction and added, “Why don’t you chase them? I’ll wait here for back-up.”

Ray rolled his eyes. “Why, thank you kindly.”

Fraser chuckled.

“The thing is,” Ray went on after a moment, feeling like he owed Fraser some further explanation, “I can’t shut it off when I’m walking. At least when I’m driving I have something to focus on.”

“Shut what off, Ray?”

“The—” He stepped aside again, waiting for a couple who didn’t seem to want to let go of each other’s hands.

“Thanks,” said one of the women. Ray smiled and nodded, trying to do the whole polite thing and avoid eye contact at the same time.

“The paying attention thing,” he said after the couple had passed. Fraser moved even closer, and suddenly their hands were almost touching, so Ray stuck his in his jeans pocket.

“There’s nothing wrong with being alert,” Fraser began quietly. “But—”

“I just feel paranoid, okay? Like I can’t break cover. And, and—” Ray knew he was rambling, but he couldn’t stop. “It’s weird, okay, Frase? Like... everybody’s watching me, and I’m watching everybody, wondering what they’re up to. Cop’s instinct, maybe. That is my thing, right?”

He tried to smile over at Fraser, but Fraser wasn’t looking. He’d stopped near the edge of the sidewalk as a man with a cane slowly approached.

Fraser looked steadily into Ray’s eyes over the man’s head. “Are you sure that’s what it is, Ray?” he asked, his calm voice somehow cutting through the street noise.

Ray suddenly felt that Fraser was too far away, so he jogged around the old man and moved back into Fraser’s personal space. “No,” he admitted quietly. “You’re right, it’s more than that.”

He was practically talking right into Fraser’s left ear, but Fraser didn’t seem to mind. He turned his head slightly, and reached out, sliding an hand down Ray’s bare forearm. The contact was calming, and Ray felt himself relax a little, letting Fraser touch him.

Fraser’s fingers were just barely entwined with his when a car horn blared. They both jerked back.

“Sorry, sorry. Not here,” muttered Ray, his face burning up as he tried to pull his arm away, but Fraser held on tightly.

“No, Ray. Here,” Fraser insisted. He slid his arm around Ray, pressing him against his side. He started walking with sure steps, leaving Ray no choice but to move with him. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Ray said, despite the pounding of his heart.

“The parade will be starting soon, and we want to find a good spot,” Fraser added a moment later.

“Ben,” Ray mumbled, fully aware of how pathetic he sounded.

“It’s all right, Ray,” Fraser reassured him. “Just a few more blocks.”

“People are staring.” He knew they were, but he couldn’t catch them at it. He knew they were doing that polite Canadian thing where they were staring but pretending not to.

“Let them stare.” Fraser brushed his cheek against his. “I love you,” he said into Ray’s ear. 

Ray waited three steps before he spoke again. “Even if I’m a chicken shit?”

“You are not,” Fraser said with intensity, and the knot in Ray’s chest loosened a little. “My father always said that true courage means acting in spite of fear. I’m proud of you.”

Ray suddenly noticed that other pedestrians were moving around them the way he and Fraser had been moving a moment ago, and yeah, maybe they were staring, but they were also smiling. It became a little easier to breathe all of the sudden.

“Was that hard to say?” he asked.

“Not in the least,” Fraser replied.

“Okay,” said Ray, still just a little shaky. He stopped, leaned in and pressed a quick, shy kiss to the corner of Fraser’s mouth. “Hap— happy Pride, Fraser,” he said, and he almost managed not to stutter.

Fraser’s slow-blooming smile was a beautiful thing. “Happy Pride, Ray,” he echoed, and he kissed Ray again, on the lips, in full view of everyone on their crowded little street corner in Toronto.

And no one seemed to mind at all.


End file.
